Harry Potter of the Umbaru
by Giacomo King of Jesters
Summary: When Harry Potter, a young baby, just defeated one of the most evil wizards in Wizarding history is dumped on the doorstep of his muggle relatives, what happens when he is abducted by a kindly old scholar and brought into a world where ritual sacrifice is not only a norm but it is also the highest of honor to die in battle. Set in years between D2 and D3 and main story in 4th Year
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note**

Hey guys, this is Giacomo King of Jesters here. I just want to welcome you to my new story, it was something that came out of the blue and I just needed to write up. To some of you who may have started reading my other stories I apologies so much for not updating them, I have been having a really bad case of writers block and wasn't quite sure where I was exactly going with The Twin Connection, mostly where to go from one real large important part of the story to the other and write it where it would actually sound kinda credible. That and I do an insane amount of night shifts at work tends to drain you.

But I am back writing, I will be working on the next chapter to T.T.C. once I wake up (it is currently 4am here in Oz) and hopefully get it up within a day. Sorry for disappointing those that have been following that particular story, especially one reviewer that I promised would be up soon at the time. But anyways, hope you like what you read. I would love constructive reviews of my works, it only makes my stuff that little better.

I will end this long rant with just saying thank you for your patience and for the new readers, hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, all rights go to J.K Rowling; all characters and concepts of the Harry Potter Universe; both good and bad, are property of J.K Rowling. I also do not own the Diablo Franchise, all rights go to Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for the express purpose of entertainment only.**

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**Chapter 1**

_"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog._

_"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"_

_"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"_

_"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out_

_of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. _

_For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from_

_Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out._

_"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."_

_"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."_

_Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night._

_"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and_

_twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four._

_"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone._

_- Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone. Chapter 1, Pages 9-10._

As Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall was walking away from the front of Number 4, Privet Drive, as the roar of Hagrid's flying motorcycle echoed through the street and the hum of the street lights returning back to life a figure slowly came out of hiding behind a nearby picket fence. The man that appeared looked quite decrepit, he wore a set of weather beaten robes that appeared to have been well worn, his open sandals severely worn and not something you would wear in the gloomy weather of England. He had a weathered and liver spotted face and head, long flowing beard and he looked to have only a few wisps of hair left on his head. His hands slightly gnarled but strong looking grasped a twisted looking walking staff that looked like, as his appearance, quite worn and well used. He looked slightly out of place as he surveyed his surroundings, all appeared to be quiet now on Privet Drive.

He made his way to the basket that lay on Number 4's doorstep, the only sound the clicking of wood on concrete as his traveling staff scraped the driveway and footpath. With a creak of joints he moved the baby blanket away from the sleeping face of the infant Potter, lightly tracing the lightning bolt scar on the babe's forehead.

"So my dream events have come to pass, the scar as I saw in my slumber", the ancient looking man whispered, a slight depressed tone knowing this child had lost so much and would lose much more in the future.

"I sense the echo of that abomination within you, we need to get that properly taken care of soon my young friend, as tricky Necromantic Magics are", he whispered as he covered the baby from the cold. With a slightly unnatural amount of strength for someone of his appearance, he picked up the basket containing the infant and turned away from the door step of the Dursley Family.

"I hope Leah hasn't got into any trouble while I have been away, amazing the amount of bedlam a four year old child can accomplish", the old man also known as Deckard Cain wispily stated as he balanced the worn staff in one hand and basket in the other, the click of his staff and shuffle of his sandals the only noise made from him.

"If I remember rightly there should be a open space where I can set the portal away from prying eyes, handy things they are but so inconspicuous", Cain stated with a slight smile on his weathered face.

It is at this point, had Cain not interfered in the placement of the infant Harry Potter that the blight of 'the Freak' and 'Un-Naturalness' would have been placed on the laps of the Dursley Family, followed by years of abuse and neglect afflicted on young Harry; making the boy wizard a 'perfect Gryffindor' as a slimy bat like man would say. This event in time would later ultimately unleash a totally different Harry Potter, savior and martyr, on the Magical World.

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It was a slow and sleepy morning the next day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore faced the bright eyed and bleary eyed students as they struggled their way into the Main Hall for breakfast. Dumbledore felt slightly bleary minded himself; having imbibed in a fine 100 year old brandy the night earlier with his colleagues in celebration. All seemed well this morning; the morning was however interrupted by a small piercing shriek from within Dumbledore's robes. Showing alarm he swiftly reached into a pocket and withdrew a small device, silver in colour and pocket watch like in appearance, Dumbledore flicked the catch open showing the face of the device. This device, known to only a few, was tied to wards to a great treasure; the home of The-Boy-Who-Lived, and according to this device the wards of Number 4 Privet Drive had fallen.

Dumbledore leapt out of his chair with haste, leaving the Main Hall in a hurry. McGonagall seemed a bit flustered with the quick retreat of the Headmaster.

"Heads and Prefects please ensure all students leave for their morning classes on time' McGonagall sternly said, leaving the hall and following the Headmaster to his office. Bypassing the gargoyle and running up the stairs, McGonagall arrived just as Dumbledore had finished grabbing a heavy outer robe and a handful of floo powder.

"The wards on Number 4 has dropped, I am going through to the Hogshead and apparating to find out why the wards failed. Can you send a message to Alastor to meet me at the Dursley's as soon as possible?" Dumbledore rushed, throwing the floo powder in the fireplace and leaving through the floo without hearing a response. McGonagall was quick to act, sending a Patronus message to Alistor Moody and strode her way to her office deep in thought.

Dumbledore didn't even stop to greet his brother as he disappeared with a crack; appearing near Number 4 in a nearby alleyway with only the local junkie slumped against a fence, rushing towards the Dursley home as fast as his ancient legs could carry him. Finally reaching the front door he knocked frantically until he heard someone rushing to the door. The door opened abruptly; the face of Mrs. Petunia Dursley, a thin and long necked woman still in her night cap and night dress, appeared with a scowl. Upon seeing the face of the bearded wizard her frown turned into a snarl.

"YOU!" Petunia yelled, she narrowed her eyes and ground out, "What do you want?"

"Where is the boy Petunia?" Dumbledore asked desperately, this just put a confused look on Petunia's face.

"What boy?" Petunia asked, a commotion was going on inside as they were talking and a bellow came from inside the house.

"Pet, who's at the door?" asked a heavy looking mustachioed man wobbled to the door, a tea stain currently on his crisp white shirt. Vernon Dursley, a severely overweight man, was just finishing his breakfast ready to rush for another day at work when the banging on the door startled him, knocking over his leftover tea spoiling his crisp new work shirt. Vernon was already on edge with all the strange folk the following day, all he was looking forward to was a nice normal day. The sight of a strange looking old man at his door and his wife with a frown on her face put him more on edge.

"Your nephew Petunia, where is your nephew?" Dumbledore asked, getting more desperate by the second.

"My freak of a nephew, why don't you ask my freak of a sister?" Petunia stated with a snarl on her face. Dumbledore was silent for a second then frowned.

"Lily and her husband passed away yesterday, I explained it all in the letter I sent you with your nephew in a basket on your doorstep last night. So I ask again Petunia, where is Harry Potter?".

Vernon just snorted,

"We don't know anything about a freak child, disappeared huh? Well good riddance".

"Look the freak isn't here; there was no basket on my doorstep this morning. Now if you don't mind, I have a baby of my own to feed and I would rather be doing that then have your un-naturalness at my door." Petunia said, slamming the front door. Dumbledore just stood there for a minute in a daze, he thought that Harry Potter was not here was a disaster, and to top it off not knowing where the babe could have gone. He tuned away from the Dursley home as he heard the rhythmic thump of a peg leg behind him, the gnarled figure of Alastor Moody appeared as he limped up the sterile looking path.

"Albus, what would be so important that you would pull me from Auror training?" Moody growled, a frown on his scar marred face. The question rebooted Dumbledore's stupefied mind, a serious expression on his aged face.

"Call in the whole Order, let everyone know to come to Hogwarts within the hour" Dumbledore ordered, popping away in broad day light.

"Albus!", Moody tried to say as Dumbledore apparated away, "Dammit Albus, what the hell is going on?" Moody growled as he took a look around then popped off himself, hoping the news was important.

* * *

The staff room at Hogwarts was chaos; the room was full of people like such people as the red haired Arthur Weasley, the grey bunned hair of Minerva McGonagall, the thinning hair of Alastor, and the premature graying hair of Remus Lupin who looked rather distraught. They were waiting on the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and Headmaster of Hogwarts who was also 10 minutes late to a meeting he ordered. McGonagall was starting to get rather annoyed, she had been known to be quite punctual and hadn't been late to a class in years and already was 15 minutes late to her 3rd Year Double Transfiguration class for the morning. As she was about to voice her displeasure the anarchy of the staff room was interrupted with the entrance of a subdued Albus Dumbledore.

"Now that we are all here, can you tell us why you have ripped us away from our lives just after the war is over Albus?" Moody growled with impatience. Dumbledore, looking his 100+ year of age gingerly lowered himself in his chair.

"As you know, the war against the evil of Lord Voldemort ended with the tragic passing of two of our friends, James and Lily Potter, last night. It is true that some how, young baby Harry Potter had ended the reign of the most evil wizard of this age. Through the use of some unknown protective magic Lily Potter had protected her child from the Killing Curse, using that protective magic I wove some blood wards in a safe place where Harry would grow up living a normal life." Dumbledore explained, everyone silent in prayer for a couple of fine people who lost their lives too short; Remus Lupin a lot more in thought as he had lost all his best friends in one night. Dumbledore continued after a sip of water, with was popped in by one of the castles many house elves.

"Last night Minerva, Hagrid and I delivered baby Harry to his relatives with specific instructions. This morning, one of my ward monitors connected to the blood wards alarmed that they collapsed. Upon visiting the residence in question the relatives said that they had not received Harry last night." Dumbledore sighed, Remus knocked out of his thoughts at the end of Dumbledore's explanation.

"Wait a minute, are you saying that Harry has gone missing?!" Remus asked his eyes going slightly amber, the werewolf bleeding out slightly due to Remus' anger.

"That is precisely what I am saying Remus" Dumbledore sighed, looking around tiredly.

"Wait a minute, there is just one thing I don't understand." Moody interrupted the subdued group from their thoughts, "You said that you delivered the Potter child to his relatives, yet they say they haven't had the child. How did you exactly deliver the baby to his relatives?" said Moody crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair scowling.

"We left him on the doorstep, in a basket with several warming charms on his blanket supplied with a note explaining everything" Dumbledore admitted, McGonagall scowling slightly at this point.

"Wait, are you telling me you left the hero of the Wizarding World like a bottle of milk on someone's doorstep on a cold night by himself?" Arthur exclaimed in disbelief.

"Whose bright idea was it to drop the savior of our world on the doorstep of some muggles Albus?" Moody growled, not liking the conversation that was happening at the moment.

"I personally decided to drop him off last night to not cause any arguments knowing that the Dursley's were sensitive to the nuances of the Wizarding World." Dumbledore admitted, which elicited a lot of disbelief.

"Dammit Albus, why didn't you use some god dam common sense and use some Constant Vigilance!" Moody growled in annoyance, this tipped Remus over the top and rushed to leave.

"Remus, where you going man?" Moody asked his glass eye swiveling around its socket in agitation.

"I can't just sit here anymore listen to this rubbish, I am going to go out there and find my cub!" Remus yelled, striding out the room in anger and slammed the door shut.

"So what do we do, do we have any leads?" Arthur asked, rubbing his face wearily. There was utter silence for a few seconds as everyone was trying to absorb the news, which the savior of the Wizarding World was missing. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the firm tone of Albus Dumbledore.

"At the present there is no leads, I propose we keep our eyes and ears open to any leads. Arthur if I could ask you to keep an ear out in the Ministry and Alastor if you could ask any contacts you may have with Muggle Law Enforcement. Above all, word must not come out that we are missing Harry Potter, it may cause a panic in the Magical Community" Dumbledore proposed which everyone slowly agreed.

It would be over a decade before the aims of this meeting come into fruition and any signs of The-Boy-Who-Lived would be seen. Little did they know at this time that a different Harry Potter that they expected would be witnessed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note**

Hey guys, this is Giacomo once again. I just just have to say I am so sorry for no update in so long, I have had a lot of things happen in real life that has hindered my writing slightly. With shift work and a girl friend now I havent had much time to sit and write, I also went on holiday for a while during Xmas and the holiday season so no writing then.

But I am back and have written this instalment up, it has a bit of dialogue and tried this time to be more descriptive in my writing which I found lacking in past instalments of my stories. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put a lot more work and imagination into this one chapter than I have in other stories so I hope it entertains. Just remember to follow this story if you want to keep up with updates and if you have and contructive comments feel free to leave a review. I also accept PM's from people so if you like send me a message telling me what you think.

Well I hope you enjoy, Giacomo. King of Jesters and Jester of Kings.

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**Disclaimer:**** I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, all rights go to J.K Rowling; all characters and concepts of the Harry Potter Universe; both good and bad, are property of J.K Rowling. I also do not own the Diablo Franchise, all rights go to Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for the express purpose of entertainment only.**

**Chapter 2**

It had seemed like hours since Deckard Cain had entered this infernal jungle, leaving the semi safe face of the Teganze sun to trudge through the rotting and humid environment of the Torajan Jungles. The cluttered foliage of the Torajan were especially treacherous to the ill prepared, the sun seem to strain through the thick canopy of the coniferous foliage; it is because of this thick layer of greenery that trapped a fair amount of heat and humidity within the dark confines of the forest. There were many types of dangerous animals roaming the jungle, along with many denizens of the deep wandering these dangerous grounds, If that wasn't enough, there was the numerous amounts of poisonous snakes, spiders, insects and even plants that could kill or severely poison the unwary. Terrain was treacherous as well, many pitfalls covered in dead and decaying foliage scattered the land that would send many unsuspecting victims to fall to their doom. The Torajan Jungle Tree's seemed to somehow have some sentience, their twisting gnarled roots of the jungle trees coiled and contorted to make paths treacherous and seemed to trip unguarded feet. Sweat dripped from Cain's elderly face, the humidity and stinging bugs overpowering and uncomfortable; the salt from his sweat aggravating his bites. There was a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel though for Deckard Cain; his destination was at hand.

His destination was a clearing deep in the Torajan Jungle, a clearing sacred to the Umbaru people; a group of tribal clans of deeply spiritual people dealing with the nuances of life and death. Cain planned to meet an old friend of his that he had met many years ago, an elderly Witchdoctor of the Five Hills tribe; if anyone could deal with the deadly curse hanging over the child's head then no one could. It was another 10 minutes and pushing away an overgrown fern the clearing opened up to Cain and his precious cargo, Cain just sigh in relief and wiped sweat off his face with his sleeve. The clearing was pristine, beautiful and untouched by evil; it was a very uncommon thing in this world of Sanctuary today. The grass was short and green, unlike the harsh crisp crackle of dry grass the lawn in this clearing was soft, loamy and fragrant; it surely looked like some powerful magics had maintained the lushness and purity in this clearing. Within this clearing stood 3 large, knee high stumps of old petrified trees that had to have been hundreds of years old when they lived; they were a golden chestnut brown and smooth to the touch. Cain made for the nearest trunk lowered the basket containing the young child and lowering himself gingerly with a creak; once he let out a sigh he checked his charge.

The young lad was a quiet baby, crying only when he was hungry or when his nursing rags were soiled, overall he was a happy baby and made the journey a whole lot easier. Cain had attempted to contact a Necromancer colleague of his earlier in the journey but the man was strangely missing from his usual haunts; usually perusing over various scrolls and tomes regarding his Art. Cain was worried about this meeting, from what he had heard from the grape vine an important event for the Umbaru was coming up very soon and his friend might not be so understanding. Cain sighed once again, withdrawing a battered old leather water skin; after taking a refreshing sip of water he moves the basket covers over trying to give some water to the child. A small breeze wafted through the clearing, a sweet smell covered the area easing the tension within Cain's body a little. He did not know though that he was not alone in that clearing till dog like growls sounded behind him, Cain stood and turned in alarm, putting himself between the threat and his precious cargo brandishing his walking staff like a weapon.

Surrounding him stood a ghastly and grotesque sight; a group of 3 zombified creatures closely resembling canines with putrefying flesh and sharp gaping maws that appeared oversized compared to their size to deliver a harsh wounding bite. The zombie dogs snarled, drooling slightly of a black ichor and blood. Cain cursed his non-vigilance, he was also surprised how they got a jump on him; the stench coming off these creatures reeked of death and decay. Cain readied himself with his staff, ready to protect his charge from the foreseen overwhelming odds. Just as the zombie dogs were about to engage Cain, a stern, mildly accented voice came from behind a heavily mossy boulder surrounded in ferns.

'Hold there, back off!', as this command sounded the zombified dogs stood down and obediently sat where they stood.

'Why have you come Friend Cain, the eve before Igani Bawe is upon us and I have many preparations ahead.' Continued the stern voice, a dark figure made his presence known in the clearing.

The figure was a man thinly built in appearance yet wiry with compact muscles, more like a swimmers figure rather than a bulky muscle bound man. He wore tanned, leather skins adorned with blue, red and yellow feathers attached to a long thin leather chord, covering from his waist to his sinewy knees. His feet and chest were bared, only strings of carved wood and bone attached to leather strips around his ankles and a grisly string of bone, feathers and what appeared to be the skull of a small bird hung around his neck covering his chest. A cuff on each upper arm held sharp dart like implements, a 30 centimetre blowpipe was strapped to his thin, right upper arm. A ghastly looking object that appeared like a small animal head of some sort with various feathers of black, yellow and red hung at his waist by a twisting string of leather attached to small bone nails around the neck of the head. His face was hidden by a large, frightening wooden mask; long red, yellow and green feathers topped the weathered and scarred mask with small, goat like horns attached to the 'temples' of the mask. Purple, red and yellow coloured paint covered the surface of the mask. The whole ensemble would normally strike fear into most men but Deckard Cain just wearily smiled and lowered his staff.

'I apologise Zuwadza my old friend, I would not come at this time unless it was of great importance' Cain said leaning on his walking staff walking back to 'his' stump.

'Very well, what can I do with you old friend?' the newly identified Zuwadza said, reaching for his mask showing a man just reaching the end of his prime, a small bone piercing his nose and his stubbled hair greying slightly. He was Zuwadza, a highly respected and ranked Witchdoctor of the Five Hills tribe. He was a highly skilled and practitioner of the Voodoo Arts, in his younger years he was a feared adversary in battle and a fearsome opponent in Igani Bawe or Harvest of Souls, a ritual war between the tribes of the Umbaru. Battle would be waged in Igani, the losers would be captured alive and ritually sacrificed to the spirits of Mbwiru Eikura or loosely translated the Unformed Lands. Mbwiru Eikura was considered to the Umbaru the plane where all people go when they pass on and their ancestral spirits live on in this plane to advise the living. It was also the plane where the power of the Witchdoctors were drawn and the Umbaru source of prosperity were from. The success of the seasonal harvests and the Umbaru way of life surrounded Mbwiru Eikura, the spirits were to be kept appeased by the sacrifices if the flow of life was to be kept. The Witchdoctors are finely connected to the Unformed Land, using hallucinogenic concoctions can connect directly to Mbwiru Eikura via a state known as Ghost Trance.

'Many nights I have dreamt a bleak event that would unfold beyond the veil of our world. A figure in my dreams begged me to find a child inflicted by a foul curse, I have come with this child to see if this curse may be lifted' Cain explained looking at the basket nearby as he reached for his dropped water skin.

'What is so special about this child that you would pierce the veil between our worlds, opening both worlds to demonic corruption?' Zuwadza questioned as he strode to the basket and crouched, drawing away the covers from the young child. What welcomed him in the basket was the emerald eyes of young Harry Potter, the vivid wound shaped like lightning emblazoning his brow. Zuwadza was silent with a bewildered look, his eyes shifting between the child's eyes and the already scabbed up wound on the child. The aging Witchdoctor then used a thin index finger to trace the still healing wound on the young babe's forehead, as he got to the centre of the wound a feeling of dread and foreboding hit his body, there was something not quite right afflicted with this child.

'If we leave now, we will arrive at my village with enough time to prepare for the morrow's Igani' Zuwadza hurriedly said as he flinched slightly, moving to grab the basket.

'What, what have you discovered about this curse my friend?' Cain asked with a sense of trepidation.

'No, what ever inflicts this child is not a curse, it feels different; more malevolent' Zuwadza hurriedly explained,

'Come, we must hurry, the sun sets soon. We need to reach the village before night falls, all amount of evil surfaces'.

Zuwadza hurriedly left the clearing, his zombie dogs trailing following by a confused but alarmed Deckard Cain. There was once again silence and peace within the sacred clearing. 

* * *

It was nearly pitch black when the familiar figures of Zuwadza and Deckard Cain approached the village of the Five Hills tribe, a multitude of bright glowing lights coming from the village camp fires illuminated the way. The soft glow of luminescent insects covered the forest, the air now cooling but dewy. Despite all the difficulties getting there, the attack from a group of zombie pygmies, the hilarious incident when Cain got caught in vines and the near miss at a disguised crag they finally made it to their destination. As Cain approached the outskirts of the village he could see the mud and fern topped huts of the villagers, a boisterous celebration was underway on the eve of the Umbaru's most sacred event, the Harvest of Souls. As Zuwadza and Cain entered the village groups of Umbaru villagers offered Zawadza offerings of meat from exotic birds that had been barbequed over open camp fires and handfuls of fresh picked jungle berries; Zuwadza was a well respected member of the village and the next Harvest of Souls; should he live by the end of tomorrow, would elevate up in the ranks of witchdoctors and be the last Harvest he would participate in.

Zuwadza though was on a mission, politely declining the offered food he pushed forward through the crowd that was forming and made his way to the heart of the camp, where the elders of the tribe made residence and were likely preparing the various psychotropic plants and herbs into concoctions that will help participating witchdoctors to view Mbwiru Eikura in preparation for Igani Bawe. Many important villagers came to greet Zuwadza but he politely delined and with basket in hand approached the Elder's Hut which stood in the exact middle of the village as symbolism for the elders being the central part of the Umbaru community. The Elder's Hut was not actually a hut at all, it was carved immaculately out of dark jungle wood, decorated by carvings of various types of exotic beasts, birds and plants, its hardened mud roof was quite high for a 'hut' and painted a deep ochre colour. A small fire stood in front of the entrance to the Elder's Hut, 4 elderly members of the Elders sat in the warmth glow of the fire in only leather loin cloths and the single woman elder in a wrap around dress, grinding down various herbs and ingredients talking in whispers amongst each other. One Elder, an elderly man with one eye and an accomplished witchdoctor in his time, noticed the figures of Zuwadza and an exhausted Deckard Cain following breathlessly trying to catch his breath and also trying to take the village in while he was there.

'Brother Zuwadza, why are you not preparing for Igani Bawe?' the elderly Umbaru Elder said, steadily looking at Zuwadza with a milky white eye indicating he was viewing Mbwiru Eikura using the witchdoctor's prised ability the 'Ghost Trance'. All elders at the camp fire seemed to be in various stages of Ghost Trance to heighten the effect of the psychotropic concoctions.

'I apologise Elder Zanbati, something has come up that must be brought to the attention of the elders' Zuwadza stated slightly winded, an even older Elder who looked quite stern and was quite a powerful witchdoctor in his prime frowned after Zuwadza's statement.

'What would be more important than Igani Bawe Brother Zuwadza, the whole Umbaru people are relying upon Igani running smoothly tomorrow.' said the stern faced Elder, the Elder woman dropped her grinding stone and withdrew from her Ghost Trance.

'Brother Zuwadza, what have you brought to us that would be so important?' the Elder woman asked with a mothering smile on her face; adjusting a bead necklace hanging from her thin neck. Zuwadza walked to the Elder woman known as Néwamé, a powerful witchdoctor and mistress of healing. Zuwadza just strode to Elder Néwamé; the basket containing the young baby Harry Potter clutched in one hand, he lowered the basket in front of Néwamé and the Elder woman lifted away the covers off revealing the child.

Young Harry Potter had gone through quite an ordeal lately, with the hot and humid weather and the new noises and being away from the comforts of home and his mother had taken a toll on the young babe. Harry was currently asleep, the ambience of the jungle lulled him into a deep sleep after many nights of broken slumber. A small hood like veil covered the child's face to keep away the jungle insects, under the veil a poultice made from various herbs and saps covered the injury that had opened up from being in the vicinity of necromantic magics. Néwamé frowned at the sight of the child,

'This child has been touched by foul magic but that is not a good reason for interrupting preparations for Igani Bawe, there better be a good explanation.' Néwamé said, her mothering look fell showing a stern look that only a doctor or medic would have. Zawadza just crouched near the basket, lifting the veil off the face of young Harry Potter rousing the baby from his slumber; his emerald green eyes illuminated in the glow of the Elder's fire. It is the sight of the babe's eyes that surprised the elderly witchdoctor, her palm covering her mouth in shock.

'No, it cannot be...' Néwamé exclaimed as the other Elders crowded the basket. With a shaking hand Néwamé moved the poultice aside exposing the lightning bolt scar. Néwamé traced Harry's scar till she touched the middle of the blemish, flinching as if he touched a hot plate.

'Who would do such...evil to a young child, I sense a fractured soul attached to this child' Néwamé stated with disgust in her voice, picking up the child and looking at Harry's piercing green eyes.

'Is there anything that you could do for the child?' Cain finally said, the Elders eyeing first the young child then the elderly man leaning on his walking stick.

'Thank you Elder Cain, you have brought to us a sign of things to come; dark times are sure to follow' Néwamé said, holding the baby close to her body. Cain looked bewildered but picked up something in what Néwamé said.

'Would the 'dark times' ahead have anything to do with the End of Day's?' Cain asked, dreading the answer. The Elders stood there for a short while, unsure what to say to that question; Zanbati finally explained.

'We do not know of any such event as 'End of Days' but we believe that this child maybe a sign of a dark conflict between mankind and an unspeakable evil' Zanbati said with a frown on his face, a faint scar going though his bad eye appearing as his face wrinkled up.

'The fragment must go though, we will not be able to take the whole fragment; we can take the soul and half the power it contains' Zanbati looked at the child crossing his arms, at this time an astounding thing occurred; the child's eyes suddenly went a milky white colour with small beads of pearl coloured tears dripping from his eyes. This rocked everyone present to their core.

'To think, a mere child would go into the Ghost Trance at such a young age; not even 2 years of age and being touched by death at such a young age. His connection with Mbwiru Eikura is so strong, he needs to be trained in the witchdoctor arts if he is to keep his sanity and not get lost in Mbwiru Eikura' Zanbati stated, there seemed to be a consensus with that statement.

Cain was offered food and shelter for the night, he was also offered a guide and supplies to safely escort his way out of the Torajan Jungle. Deckard Cain knew that he had left Leah too long, it was time to get back to studying and rebuilding the Horadric prophesies he had been de-fragmenting for many years. He would not know that in 14 years, he and the baby known as Harry Potter would reunite once again to fight the coming darkness. 

* * *

It had been 14 long years that Cain had broken the veil between worlds and saved the life of a baby from a malevolent spirit attached to his forehead, Cain would get many reports of the young boy's progress in the witchdoctor arts. Young Hawe, as Harry Potter as he had been named by the Elders, had to be trained very early in age as a Witchdoctor due to his near brush with death and his close relationship with Mbwiru Eikura. For a young Witchdoctor of 15 years he was quite advanced in the Witchdoctor Arts, he had probably the closest connection to the Unformed Land in the history of the people of the Umbaru, able to connect with Mbwiru Eikura without fully going into the Ghost Trance; it covered his vision when focused like a veil able to see both the Unformed Land and Real World at the same time. He knew he still had a long way to go, there was always room for refinement, improvement and learning new magic.

Cain seemed to be in a load of trouble at the time though, he and Leah were investigating the old Tristram Cathedral when an increasing amount of undead streaming from the depths. All seemed to be normal but the odd undead creature, then a loud rumbling came from the sky followed by a bright light. An object from the sky plummeted like a large red and blue fireball and crash landed straight down the middle of the Cathedral, making a large crater glowing with a luminescent blue. Amidst the commotion a now grown up Leah and an aged Deckard Cain were separated amongst the crumbling rubble; Leah had made it to safety to New Tristram, Cain's fate was unknown to the town. Cain had hid amongst the rubble keeping a low profile and trying to ultimately escape his ordeal. It was not to last though, running from an army of skeletons he seemed to be surrounded and finally done for, Cain tried to defend himself but the years were hard to his aged body and looked like his time was up. Suddenly the skeletons surrounding him combusted in big balls of fire and pulverised bone from what seemed like large flaming skulls, Cain turned as the steady footsteps and scratching of claws to face his saviour.

His saviour was a young person not even 16 years of age with short dark hair, and dazzling green eyes; he sported a thin wiry build like that of a swimmer. He had a string of leather chord hanging off his neck, attached were assorted number of bones and feathers from various exotic birds in hues of bright yellow, royal blue and emerald green. He wore tanned, leather skins adorned with blue, red and yellow feathers attached to a long thin leather chord, covering from his waist to his powerful, thin knees. His feet were bared, only strings of carved wood and bone attached to leather strips around his ankles lined with bones and carved wood. A cuff on each upper arm held sharp dart like implements, a 30 centimetre blowpipe was strapped to his thin, right upper arm. A ghastly looking object that appeared like a small animal head of some sort with various feathers of black, yellow and red hung at his waist by a twisting string of leather attached to small bone nails around the neck of the head. A bag also hung from his waist, a feeling of power and darkness coming from the bag radiated so that even Cain felt it from where he stood exhausted. Looking at his saviours face once again he saw a faint scar like blemish on his forehead; Cain just smiled at the irony that the child he once saved would save his life. He was accompanied by 3 zombie dogs, looking quite menacing and covered with fresh and caked on blood and ichor, the smell radiating from them sickening.

'Hawe, I would never think you would be the one to save me' Cain said with a smile on his face, the young Witchdoctor just smiled in response.

'Elder Cain, I am glad to see I am not too late. Leah sent me to find you' Hawe said in a slightly accented voice, taking a look around to make sure no hostiles.

'Ah, it is good to hear Leah is alright, come let us depart from this decrepid place.' Cain said leaning on his staff heavily, limping to a close by book case. After pulling a velvet covered book triggering a hidden mechanism, the case slid aside revealing a gap to escape from. Letting the elderly figure of Cain going first, Hawe covered the rear with his zombie dogs trailing behind. After a winding, dusty and decrepit passageway Cain and Hawe came to a stone door; after some struggle they pushed it open revealing a crumpling and abandoned looking cemetery. In the middle of some crumbling stood a large stone circle covered in various runes and symbols, it was a Waypoint unactivated and their ticket out of there. Cain bent down, with his index finger touched a rune and the symbols started to glow brightly, activating the Waypoint; with no time to lose Cain and Hawe disappeared in a bright blue light, instantaneously teleporting them to the familiar surroundings of New Tristram.

A young woman with shoulder length, brown hair with a band keeping it immaculate with a petite build clothed in brown and tan leather and linen, armed with a hand cross bow took one look at Deckard Cain and smiled.

'Uncle, you're alive!' Leah said with a wide smile, hugging the old man in a crushing embrace. Cain just patted Leah on the back lightly and after breaking apart looked at Leah's smiling face.

'Yes, but it would not have been possible without my young friend here' Cain said with a weary smile, looking at Hawe fondly.

'I am glad you are safe Elder Cain but I am here on an important matter' Hawe explained with a determined look on his young face.

'Why have you come then my young friend?' questioned Cain, bewildered why this young man had come all this way, what was stated next would go down in Sanctuary history.

'I seek the fallen star'. 

* * *

**Authors Note:** I will leave that where it is for now, note to all that I won't be going through the whole D3 story line; I plan on time skipping to the end of D3 and when appropriate use flashbacks to tell my story. I had overall planned to base the majority of my story in the Harry Potter universe but I will touch upon relevant events when it happens along with parts of Harry's childhood as a member of the Umbaru.

Again I apologise so much for leaving this so late, I will not plan to wait another 2 months to bring out the next instalment. I have a fair amount of work coming up but shouldn't get in the way too bad of me writing. Once again, follow my story if you like it and leave a review if you have any constructive criticism that may help my writing.


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